What I Am
by ParadiseorPurgatory
Summary: We all know how Kurt came out, but how did it happen for Blaine? His old school was not the friendliest place in the world, how did Blaine cope when he discovered his love of football did not necessarily mean a love of women.
1. Into You Like A Train

**Pairings:** Kurt/Blaine, Blaine/OC (kiss)

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Glee, I am simply borrowing some of the characters for a little while.  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>Sexual situations, physical and emotional abuse – throughout story  
><strong>Spoilers: <strong>Possible Season 2 spoilers  
><strong>Chapter:<strong> 1/9

**Summary: **We all know how Kurt came out, but how did it happen for Blaine. His old school was not the friendliest place in the world, how did Blaine cope when he discovered his love of football did not necessarily mean a love of women.

Delves in the era of pre-glee. Kurt asks Blaine how he came out and when he realised he was gay. Blaine tells Kurt his story.

**A/N:** _For the purpose of this story I'm going to discount the episode _Blame it on the Alcohol_, or at least the 'Blaine thinks he could be bi storyline'. Instead Blaine questions his sexuality when he was a lot younger, before he first came out, so it wouldn't make sense for him to requestion his sexuality. Other than that it fits with cannon. A few original characters thrown in. Set during the summer between Season 2 and 3. I'm going by the assumption that Blaine is around 17 at the present._

* * *

><p><strong>Into You Like A Train<strong>

"… and then I came out of my apparently transparent closet." Kurt concluded, finishing the unabridged tale of his coming out story.

"Did anyone actually believe that you were straight at that stage?" Blaine asked.

"No one," Kurt smiled, "…well except Mercedes. She had a crush on me and thought I was in love with Rachel when I was actually in love with Finn."

Blaine picked up on the last part of the sentence. "You were in love with Finn? As in Finn your brother Finn," he said in shock. He knew Finn and Kurt were close as step-brothers despite some issues in the past, but his mind had never created this scenario.

"Oh – I didn't tell you about that?"

"No."

"Yeah. It was before we were step-brothers. I actually orchestrated our parents getting together so that Finn and I could share a room."

"Oh my God." Blaine laughed.

"It does seem kind of – okay insanely silly now. But it all worked out for the best. Carole is the best thing that's ever happened to my Dad after my Mum died and it really feels like I'm part of a family again – my old crush on Finn now forgotten."

"Are you sure? There's no latent feeling ready to strike again at some inopportune moment?" Blaine teased.

Kurt leaned across the bed where he and Blaine had been sitting, cross-legged facing each other while they had their chat, and pressed a soft kiss to his boyfriend's lips.

"I'm gonna say no." Kurt supplied as he pulled back, leaving Blaine with a goofy grin on his face that Kurt couldn't help but chuckle at.

"Okay, but maybe we should be sure."

Blaine leaned across the gap this time, planting his hands on either side of Kurt's hips and pressing another kiss to his boyfriend's amazingly soft lips. Kurt moaned as the kiss deepened and Blaine took this as an invitation, swiping his tongue across Kurt's lips and into the other boy's mouth. But as abruptly as the kiss began, Kurt pulled away.

"So how did it happen for you?"

"How did what happen?" Blaine questioned.

Kurt sighed. He really did love the boy in front of him, but Blaine could be extremely dense sometimes. "How did you come out?"

"I've told you that before," Blaine said, acting nonchalant, but Kurt could see the apprehension in his boyfriend's warm hazel eyes.

"No you haven't," Kurt pressed. "You just told me that you came out in your freshman year."

"Oh."

"So?"

"I don't know if you _want_ to know, Kurt. It's not a happy story."

"Coming out stories rarely are. But I do want to know. I want to know everything about you."

"Not this," Blaine murmured quietly, eyes downcast.

Kurt reached out a hand, tilting Blaine's face up with a finger under his chin. He could see the pain reflected in the other boy's face. "All right, you don't have to tell me. If you really don't want me to know I won't push."

Blaine was silent for a moment. "… okay then. If you really want to know."

Kurt smiled inwardly, reverse psychology always worked.

Blaine let out a long exhale of air. "It's a long story."

"I have time."

"Okay." Blaine leaned back onto the pile of cushions perched at the head of Kurt's bed, gesturing for the other boy to join him. Kurt positioned himself so that his head was pillowed on Blaine's chest, lower body resting comfortably to the side so he didn't crush the other boy. Blaine wrapped an arm around him and began his story.

"I don't think I always knew I was gay – well maybe on some subconscious level – but it wasn't a gradual realisation like what happened with you. I was never really into effeminate stuff when I was a kid. The only dolls I played with were GI Joes – I even used to play with toy cars and army men. Hell, I even played football and hockey and just about every other sport in middle school. I was even pretty popular, I had a lot of friends. The only thing that was maybe indicative was that I liked singing and performing – a lot. And it didn't matter to me if I was singing a girl's song or otherwise.

"So what I'm saying is that my being gay wasn't something I always kind of knew – one day it just literally hit me.

()

_Middle school – Blaine aged 13_

Blaine let out an 'oomph' as Jacob collided with him head on, sending them both crashing to the ground and knocking the wind out of him. Blaine grinned up at his best friend once he managed to get his bearings.

"Hey Jake, what's up?"

"My Mom said yes, we can totally have a sleepover in a tent in the backyard. Awesome right?" Jacob said excitedly.

"Totally awesome," Blaine echoed weakly, "but um – can you get up, Jake? You're kind of crushing me."

"Oh right, sorry man." Jake immediately jumped to his feet. Blaine missed the warmth for a second before a hand was offered to him, pulling him up from the ground. Jake brushed the grass of Blaine back – Blaine blushing when his friend's hand came dangerously close to his ass.

"So football?" Jake inquired, holding up the ball he had discarded before attacking Blaine.

"What?" Blaine asked, not quite catching Jake's words, more focused on the mouth they were coming from.

"Football?" Jake said again, more slowly this time as though talking to a very young child.

"Um?"

"Dude, are you okay? I didn't hit you that hard did I?" Jake waved a hand in front of an unresponsive Blaine. He clicked his fingers a few times before the shorter boy managed to shake himself out of his stupor, pushing his curly locks out of his eyes.

"Right, football. Sure let's go. I have to be home before six though otherwise my Mom will have a fit." Blaine said in a rush.

Jake just chuckled before running off to the other side of the oval. Blaine spacing out was not really that much of an unusual event, his friend always had his head in the clouds.

As Jake ran away Blaine felt his eyes being drawn downward. Jake was wearing tight football shorts which bunched up his thighs as his strides lengthened. Blaine felt his face getting hot. What? He shook his head to clear it. He was just a little dazed from the fall. But as they continued to kick the football, Blaine couldn't help but notice some other things about his friend – like they way he flicked his bangs out of his eyes, those really pretty dark eyes. And the way his t-shirt clung to him tightly and darkened from the sweat patches that grew as the hot sun continued to beat down.

At five Jake called it quits, saying he was tired and had some homework to finish. As he and Blaine started their journey home – their houses were both on the same street – Jake started a conversation that Blaine realised he was not comfortable with at all.

"So, Melissa Edlund was looking pretty hot today at lunch."

Blaine thought back to Melissa sitting in the cafeteria eating her lunch, to him she had looked the same as she always did – just wearing a lower cut top.

"I didn't really notice."

"Oh come on, her top was so low you could practically see her bra."

"Oh."

"I was thinking about asking her out actually," Jake continued, ignoring Blaine's lack of response.

As the words registered, Blaine felt a pang of something clench in his stomach. If he didn't know better he would have said it was jealousy. "Oh," was all he could say again.

"So, do you think she'll say yes?" Jake inquired.

"I don't know."

"Well, you talk to her – has she ever said anything about me."

"I don't know, Jake."

"Anything."

"I said I don't know," Blaine snapped.

"God, what's got your panties in a twist?" Jake asked, shocked. Blaine never snapped, he was always so cheerful and full of energy that Jake often joked a small town could be run on energy siphoned from his friend. Now Blaine just looked tired and annoyed.

"Nothing."

"Whatever."

They had reached their street. Jake gave a half-hearted wave to Blaine before heading down his driveway. Blaine continued a bit further down the road before coming to his own house. He let himself in and went straight up to his room.

As soon as he entered Blaine flopped face down on the bed, heedless of his sweaty state. His mind was too busy racing to pay any attention. He had just spent the whole afternoon staring at his best friend in a totally not friendly way. And he had felt something akin to jealousy when Jake had mentioned asking Melissa out.

A girl. A girl Blaine didn't find appealing in the slightest. Come to think of it, he had never really found any girl overly appealing, but he had never had a crush on anyone before. He just assumed he wasn't ready even though some of the guys he knew were already talking about sex – most of them were probably lying, but still. Now he thought Jake was attractive. Woah. Where the hell did that come from?

Well Jake did look especially good today in his tight shorts and t-shirt and – Oh my God, Blaine thought, he had just thought his friend looked hot. Like really hot, like want to touch hot.

What the hell was wrong with him? He was attracted to his best friend. His male best friend. He couldn't be.


	2. Deny, Deny, Deny

**Chapter: **2/9**  
>Warnings: <strong>Use of offensive language

**A/N: **_Thanks for the reviews of the first chapter, they've encouraged me to post the second chapter straight away. I'm open to any and all feedback - hope this chapter is enjoyed also._

* * *

><p><strong>Deny, Deny, Deny<strong>

_Present Day_

"So you had a crush on the straight guy. I guess that's one more thing we have in common," Kurt said, tangling his fingers with Blaine's as the other boy took a break in his story.

"Yeah, it kind of sucked. He was probably the worst guy I could have fallen for."

"Did he not take it well when you came out? Was he freaked?"

"You could say that," Blaine laughed humourlessly. "But it was a while before I could even admit properly to myself that I had a crush on him."

()

_Middle school – Blaine aged 13_

_What the hell was wrong with him? He was attracted to his best friend. His male best friend. _

No he wasn't – he couldn't be. He did not have a crush on his male best friend. On Jake – the guy he had been close with since the first day of Middle School when a stray football Jake kicked had managed to hit Blaine in the head and his apology had turned into them confessing their mutual love of Harry Potter.

No – it was just a momentary lapse in judgment. The heat of the day. Blaine most definitely did not notice the way that Jake's lightly tanned body was slightly muscled and the way his slim waist tapered down to a perfect ass. And Blaine certainly did not get hard if he thought about Jake late at night – not even a little bit. It was just overactive teenage hormones – what they had been taught in sex ed.

He wasn't, you know – he just wasn't.

()

"Hey, Katie!" Blaine called after an attractive, but slightly nerdy dark haired girl who was making her way through the parking lot after school the next day. She paused and turned, watching Blaine with a puzzled look on her face as he ran toward her.

"Uh – hi Blaine." Katie said as the boy in question came to a stop in front of her. She was a little confused as to what he wanted, they had never spoken out of class before.

"Uh," Blaine began and then paused. He wasn't quite sure how to start this. And while it had seemed like a great idea ten minutes ago, now he was losing his nerve.

"Yes?"

"Er." Blaine seemed to have forgotten the entirety of the English language.

"Did you want to ask me something?" Katie questioned after Blaine had failed to say anything after a full minute.

"Doyouwanttogoonadatewithme?"

"Sorry?"

"Do you want to go on a date with me." Blaine managed to get out.

"Oh," Katie looked slightly taken aback. "Uh sure."

"Good."

"Good?"

"Yeah, um – so are you free on Friday. We could go to the movies."

"That sounds good." Katie blushed.

Blaine smiled at her. "Okay, I'll uh talk to you tomorrow. I've got to get home." He rushed of as quickly as he appeared leaving a stunned Katie in his wake.

Okay, mission accomplished, Blaine thought. If Jake could go on a date with Melissa and tell Blaine about it in excruciating detail, then Blaine could go on a date with a girl too. He had chosen to ask Katie because he had noticed her watching him in class a few times. Now after his crush – not crush, no crush – extra noticing of Jake, Blaine had realised what those looks probably meant. And she was… pretty, he guessed. Katie had a nice smile and she was really kind, and maybe a little bit nerdy and her clothes a bit frumpy, but she had said yes and Blaine was going on a date with her. A date with a girl and that's all that mattered.

()

When he got home Blaine was surprised to see his John Anderson sitting at the kitchen table reading the paper. This stopped him short on the way to his room. His Dad rarely ventured home from the office early. Instead of going upstairs, Blaine left his bag in the hallway and bounded into the kitchen.

"Hey Dad," he said cheerfully.

"Hey kiddo, how you doing?"

"Uh good. What are you doing home so early?"

"I knocked off work early today so we could have a nice family dinner together."

"Oh?" Blaine smiled.

"With you're grandparents."

"Oh," Blaine said, less happily. "I didn't know Grandma and Grandpa were coming."

"They rang this morning after you had already left for school." John noticed Blaine's face fall. "Look, I know they're not your favourite people in the world, but your Grandma always gives you some cash, right? You can put up with my stuffy parents for one night. They're not staying. You're Grandfather just needs to go over a few things with me about the merger at work and then they'll be gone."

Blaine brightened considerably. "Okay. So where's Mom?"

"She just went to pick up a few things for dinner. You better go and get changed – and attempt to tame your hair. Put on your nice pants and a shirt and tie."

Blaine left to go upstairs.

"That match." His father called after him. Blaine chuckled remembering the time his Grandmother had been horrified when he had worn a dinosaur tie with a pinstriped shirt.

()

Dinner was a horrible affair, and that's before it even started. Once it did…

"And all that news lately about those_ homosexuals_," Blaine's Grandmother spat the word out as if it was tainting her just to say it, "receiving all those rights. They're disgusting. Who would chose to live like that, it's utterly repulsive."

Blaine blanched in his seat as his parents murmured something that could be agreement or not. His Grandmother didn't seem to care either way and continued with her tirade. After a few minutes she turned to Blaine.

"So, Blaine, are you seeing anyone yet?"

"Uh – "

"Blaine um's and uh's are not polite. Say what you want to say without them please. And fix your tie."

Blaine fixed the, in his opinion, already straight tie. "Well I asked a girl out today. We're going to the movies on Friday."

John smiled at the pleasant news. "Good for you son." He patted Blaine on the back.

"Yes, very good Blaine." His Grandmother supplied before his Grandfather stepped in to turn the conversation once again to business.

Blaine tuned out the rest of the conversation, toying with his food until he could be excused. His normally voracious appetite had vanished. As his mother excused him to go upstairs his Grandmother slipped a folded bill into his palm. He flinched away from her touch, but she didn't seem to notice. She gave him a tight smile before turning back to the conversation.

As soon as Blaine reached his room he threw the bill into the trash without even looking at it. He slumped down on his bed and clutched his pillow tightly to his chest. He knew his family weren't that accepting of gay people, but he hadn't realised their dislike went to the extent of calling it disgusting and wrong.

But that was okay because he was dating Katie and she was pretty and she was nice and most importantly she was a girl and not Jacob. She may like Harry Potter and look slightly masculine but she was not Jacob. She was a girl and that was what was important.

()

"You can put your arm around me if you want." Katie looked up at Blaine from beneath her lashes, blush visible even in the low lights of the cinema. They were halfway through the movie, but Blaine could barely remember any of the storyline, too worried about what he should and should not be doing. This wasn't easy. When Jake had told him about his date with Melissa he made it seem like Blaine should instinctually know what he was doing. He didn't – and he didn't want to screw this up.

Now Katie was asking him to put his arm around her. Okay. Blaine could do that. He slung an arm across the back of her seat as Katie snuggled closer to him, resting her head on his shoulder. After a few more minutes she reached over to tangle her fingers with his spare hand. His palm felt sweaty and the whole position was uncomfortable. He didn't feel any urge to pull Katie closer.

()

They held hands, Katie again initiating the contact, as they left the cinema and walked through the parking lot. Blaine, knowing what was expected of a chivalrous gentleman from watching way to many rom-coms, offered to walk her home. When they reached the door Blaine did the thing he had been dreading. He leaned in and pressed his lips to Katie's soft, pliant ones.

It was wet and really gross. Blaine did not enjoy it at all. It was nothing like what Jake had described about his kiss with Melissa. There were no fireworks or any of those other clichés. Blaine didn't feel anything. He pulled back quickly and Katie gave him a shy but happy smile. He forced his face to conform into his own smile, but it fell short from his usual 100 watt grin. Katie didn't seem to notice as she bid him farewell with another kiss, to the cheek this time, and went into her house.

Blaine stood on the doorstep, rubbing the wet patch off his cheek. That was not what he wanted to have happened at all. At home in his room he mulled over the date again, trying to pick up something he may have missed. Why it was all so special and fun for other boys, but not for him.

It was because he didn't want to kiss a girl. He wanted to kiss a boy. He wanted to kiss Jake. That thought sent a warm tingle through his body. The reaction he had failed to feel throughout his whole date with Katie. Crap.

()

Jake continued to date girls. Blaine continued to pine after him from afar.

"So Janie let me touch her boobs the other day."

Oh great, Blaine thought, we were back to this again. Janie was the latest in a long list of Jake's girlfriends. They all seemed to blend together after a while. Blaine couldn't even be bothered remembering who was who – but Jake was looking at him expectantly.

"That's great, dude," Blaine said half-heartedly.

"That's it? What no begging me for details?"

"I'm just not that interested okay?" Blaine sighed. He hated these conversations.

"So who _are_ you interested in? I mean you went out on that one date with Katie, but that was like months ago."

"No-one."

"Come on, man. I know there's someone. You're always daydreaming. Someone's caught your eye."

"It's no-one alright. Just drop it!"

"Defensive much? Right, now I know there's someone you like."

"There's not," Blaine lied

"Just tell me who it is. I promise I won't tell anyone."

"Oh, like the time you didn't tell anyone when I tripped down the stairs at school?"

"But that was funny."

Blaine glared at him.

"Okay, but I won't tell anyone this. Scout's honour," Jake said, saluting and then punching Blaine in the shoulder in a sign of his affection.

Blaine flushed at the contact. Jake took this to mean that he was on the right track.

"Tell me."

"No."

Suddenly Jake lunged at Blaine, knocking both of them of the couch and tickling Blaine mercilessly.

"Uh – stop." Blaine giggled, struggling as Jake straddled him, effectively pinning Blaine to the floor. Beneath a boy. A boy that he really liked who was currently writhing around on top of him. Blaine tried to breathe through the tickling and the arousal that was currently thrumming through his body. He wasn't thinking and his brain came to the only conclusion as to how to get Jake off of him.

The other boy was oblivious to Blaine's discomfort. "Tell me who you like and I'll stop. Tell me –"

"Y-you," Blaine stammered.

" – who you… wait what?" Jake stopped moving, still straddling Blaine.

"I – nothing."

"You just said you like me."

It took literally two seconds for Jake to evacuate his position on top of Blaine and be halfway across the room. Blaine got up more slowly and moved forward to approach his friend who took a step back.

Blaine stopped walking. "I uh – I didn't mean to blurt that out."

"So what are you gay?"

It was the first time Blaine had heard that word applied to him. "Jake I – " Blaine took one more step forward.

"No keep the fuck away from me you freak. I can't believe I've been hanging out with you and all this time you've been a fucking dirty faggot. Just stay the fuck away!"

That word _faggot_ cut Blaine more than any other teasing he'd ever received. That one little word hurt so much more by the fact that it was coming from the guy Blaine considered to be his best friend. As Jake slammed the front door, Blaine crumpled to the floor. He curled his knees up to his chest, buried his face in his hands and felt hot tears trace a burning path down his face.

"No," he whispered, but Jake had already left.


	3. Bring The Pain

**Warnings:** Use of offensive language, physical abuse

* * *

><p><strong>Bring The Pain<strong>

_Present Day_

"So he really didn't take it well."

It wasn't a question, but Blaine answered anyway. "No he did not."

"What happened next?" Kurt sounded apprehensive to hear where Blaine's story was going. He tilted his head backward to look up at his boyfriend's upside-down face. Blaine was wearing a stony mask, his expression lacking its usual warmth. His eyes became hard and cold. This was the mask Blaine pulled every time he had to talk about something unpleasant. Kurt recognised it from the time Blaine had mentioned the Sadie Hawkins dance.

Unpleasant though it may be, Blaine had promised to tell Kurt his story. So he took a deep breath and continued.

()

_Middle School – Blaine aged 13_

Life was a living hell. Ever since Blaine had inadvertently confessed his crush on Jake directly to his former best friend, that said former friend had taken it upon himself to make Blaine's life as miserable as possible.

The day after the little event in Blaine's living room, it seemed the entire school knew he was a _fag_. Blaine shuddered every time the word was thrown at him. As he walked down the school hallways abuse, both physical and verbal, was hurled from every direction. The jocks who, up until yesterday, had been his friends sneered at him and pushed him into a row of lockers. Blaine winced as his shoulder made contact with the hard metal. Aaron, the lead jock and captain of the football team, gave him the finger as the group passed.

"Fuck off, homo."

Crowds parted like the Red Sea as Blaine walked past, girls and boys alike. His eyes pricked and tears threatened to fall, but he held them back. His father had always taught him to be strong, to man up when things got tough and that was exactly what he planned to do. And then he saw Jacob. His ex-friend was fishing some books out of his locker, the locker that was located directly next to Blaine's.

Blaine knew it had been Jake who started all this, but he still felt the urge to apologise to the other boy – his crush his best friend. Tell Jake that he meant no harm, it wasn't true, merely a slip up on his part. As he approached Jake and opened his mouth to begin the other boy slammed his locker shut with a resounding clang. He turned toward Blaine with a look of hatred in his eyes. Blaine flinched back from the expression.

"Keep the fuck away from me, faggot."

And with that Jake stalked off in the other direction. The tears Blaine had struggled to control began to fall freely. He ducked into the nearest bathroom, thanking his lucky stars that it was empty, and closed himself into a stall before sinking to the floor and allowing himself to break down.

The bell rang as Blaine sat, hunched in on himself, on the dirty bathroom floor, but he didn't take much notice. They had all turned against him. In one day Blaine, popular and liked student, had been dragged directly to the bottom of the food chain. After an indeterminable amount of time he finally managed to pull himself together and with one last chocked sob he rose to his feet, wiping his eyes.

Blaine examined himself in the mirror. His eyes were rimmed in red, his nose bright. He ran some water, shuddering as the cool liquid made contact with the heated skin of his face. After a few minutes he deemed himself ready to rejoin the outside world.

()

Blaine snuck into his first class, Science, offering a hasty apology to the teacher. Many of the boys glared at him as he entered the room. Instead of taking his usual seat with them, Blaine sat alone at the old dodgy desk with the rickety chair at the back of the room. The teacher carried on with his lecture, oblivious to the looks his students were throwing Blaine and the distressed expression on the aforementioned boy's face.

Then Mr Williams instructed the students to break into pairs for the practical task they would be performing today. The class had even numbers, but nobody wanted to work with Blaine. Even those who weren't part of the bullying didn't want to be Blaine's partner lest it damage their own reputation.

Finally Katie walked over to him, her normally bright, happy face wearing a cold mask of derision. Blaine felt his stomach clench painfully. After they had gone on their sole movie date Blaine had become friends with the girl in front of him, now she was looking at him like something yucky she had stepped in.

"I'll work with you, but don't talk to me."

Abiding her wishes, Blaine said nothing and they worked through the class in silence.

()

The rest of the day followed in the same manner. Blaine had never been so grateful for the bell signalling the end of the day. He collected his things and fled the school grounds in record time.

When he got home his Mom was preparing dinner in the kitchen. She turned as soon as she heard Blaine enter the room.

"Hey honey, how was school?"

For a moment Blaine considering spilling everything to her. His Mom who had always helped him with everything before. But then he remembered the dinner conversation with his Grandparents and swallowed the words that were threatening to burst from him. Pasting on a fake smile – he had always been a good performer – he said, "it was fine, Mom. What's for dinner?"

()

If Blaine thought his situation would get better, he was oh so wrong. Despite the fact that he had neither confirmed or denied the rumours about him being gay, it seemed the entire student body had taken Jake on his word. Nobody had even asked for Blaine's side of the story. In fact, apart from throwing insults at him or if they needed to for class, his fellow students refused to talk to him at all.

Everyday the jocks would thrust him into lockers or trip him as he walked by to the stage that Blaine's skin was perpetually mottled with deep purple bruises. He quit every sports team he was on, to avoid further confrontations with the jocks, and every other extra-curricular organisation that he was a part of – to avoid everyone.

At home he put up a brave face. His parents noticed nothing except for the fact that Blaine seemed less energetic than he used to be. They chalked it down to a stage he was going through. When Blaine told them he had quit his sports teams they accepted his fabricated explanation of 'I want to focus more on school work,' without hesitation – despite Blaine already being a straight A student.

Blaine also strived to be brave at school, he ignored every insult thrown at him and he never physically fought back. He never cried at school like he had on that first day – he saved the breaking down for when he was home alone. He meticulously planned his days and movements to avoid as many people as possible, taking the long ways to his classes and spending each lunch time eating by himself on the oval.

The abuse never stopped completely, but after a while it died down. Blaine simply became the kid that everybody avoided if they knew what was good for them.


	4. I Saw What I Saw

**I Saw What I Saw**

**A/N:** _This chapter bit me in the ass. I knew how I wanted it to end, but it took me a while to get there – although I do like how it turned out. I had to introduce a few more OC's so I hope you still enjoy._

* * *

><p><em>Present Day<em>

"Blaine, I'm so sorry all that crap had to happen to you." Kurt caressed his boyfriend's arm in a soothing gesture as Blaine's story lulled once again. The other boy shuddered at his touch, still deep in thought.

"It took me a long time to get over all of that." Blaine said quietly after a few moments. "I went from being popular to being the school outcast over the course of one day. And I know that what happened to you was horrible as well, but I'm kind of glad that I can talk to someone who can empathise. As hard as this is, I think it's helping to talk to someone who actually understands. God, I'm starting to sound like my therapist."

"You have a therapist?" Kurt asked, surprised.

"Had," Blaine replied. "My parents sent me when things started to get really bad –"

"Worse than they already were?" Kurt was shocked. Blaine's tale was awful enough as it was.

" – after the Sadie Hawkins dance. But that's later in the story. While Middle School was hell, the start of High School was a little better – at least to begin with."

()

_Freshman Year – Blaine aged 14_

Yes… at last… freedom! It was finally time for High School. Blaine had convinced his parents to send him to a different school than most of the other students in his graduating class were attending. He was finally getting out of this hell hole and leaving all the people who made his life a misery behind. He was going to start afresh – create a new persona – a new life where nobody had to know about the gay rumours. A place where he wouldn't be ostracised any longer – and it was going to be great.

For the first time in a long time, Blaine enjoyed his day at school. People actually talked to him without throwing hateful comments his way. Students sat next to him willingly in class and no-one kicked him out of the boys locker room when they were required to change for P.E. After a week or so Blaine had even folded seamlessly into a friendship group. The drama geeks. And maybe they weren't the coolest kids in school, but they were the nicest people he had met in a while.

The group consisted of a couple of freshman – Randall, Sally and himself – and a few sophomores – Alan, Harper, Megan and Tyler. They had all bonded over their mutual love of performing and after meeting in the drama centre a few times, ended up hanging out with each other during lunch period. The conversation always flowed and Blaine felt himself beginning to come out of his shell again.

In fact, Blaine was one of the most normal of the group. Randall would spout random phrases of Shakespeare, Sally wrote gory poetry, Alan burst into song at random intervals. And then there was Megan who had what was probably OCD in its early stages, Harper who had also been a victim of bullying at his last school and carried a few scars… and Tyler. Tyler who was so thin it looked like he would snap in half. Blaine discovered after a few weeks of watching Tyler eat a single piece of fruit or nothing for lunch everyday that the older boy had something akin to anorexia.

But it didn't matter. None of it mattered and Blaine's love of performing Disney songs originally sung by women only made the group love him more. Blaine was still worried though, he was petrified that the rumour of him being gay would be spread around again and his newfound friends would leave like everyone had left him the year before. A few of his old classmates had come to his new school and he lived in fear that everyday of fitting in could be his last.

()

"Get the fuck out of my way, homo!" Blaine was shoved and he fell back against the lockers. It was like that day in Middle School all over again. The day after Jake had told everyone that Blaine was gay. It was one of the jocks that Blaine had once been friends with. The old captain of the football team – Aaron. The other Neanderthals with him laughed as they passed Blaine who had crumpled to the ground.

Later as Blaine walked into his English class there were whispers that ceased as soon as he entered the room. Perfect, Blaine thought, it was great while it lasted, but now everything was going back to the way they were last year. He may not have heard exactly what the other students were whispering, but he could be sure it was about him. Not even a term in and now he was going to lose everyone. Again.

()

Blaine was dreading going to lunch. He didn't think he could handle seeing the disappointment and hate in his friends eyes. Outside of the cafeteria Blaine stood, rocking on the balls of his feet, debating whether he should go in at all. After a few minutes the decision was taken out of his hands when Tyler traipsed up behind him.

"Hey Anderson, having an internal monologue? If you say it out loud I believe it's called a soliloquy and then we can all know the inner workings of that great mind of yours."

It was Tyler's convoluted way of asking Blaine what was wrong. Tyler wasn't treating Blaine any differently than he had yesterday – he mustn't have heard the rumours yet.

"Nothing's going on, Ty." Blaine forced a smile, if Tyler didn't know yet, he sure as hell wasn't going to enlighten him.

Tyler just shrugged and threw an arm around Blaine's shoulders, leading him into the cafeteria and steering them over to their group's table. The two sat as the others mumbled their greetings and returned to their respective conversations. Nobody said anything about the rumours. Maybe they all hadn't heard. Maybe Blaine was going to get away with it.

But as lunch period was coming to a close Harper asked, "So Blaine, are you gay? 'Cause I heard a couple of girls moaning over the fact that one of the hottest freshman guys liked dudes."

Blaine paled. He didn't know what to say. Harper didn't sound angry. His face hadn't morphed into a mask of revulsion, in fact he just looked mildly curious, as did the rest of the group.

When Blaine didn't reply Harper asked again, "So, are you?"

"Leave him alone, Harp." Tyler had jumped to Blaine's rescue. "If Anderson doesn't want to deny or confirm the rumours than that is his fucking liberty. You always get so caught up in Chinese whispers anyway, just because a hot girl said it, doesn't mean it's true."

"Whatever, Ty," but Harper dropped it, instead initiating a conversation with Sally about her latest poem. Blaine couldn't believe his luck. They had heard the rumours but they didn't care. They were still his friends – all of them. A goofy smile spread across his face and remained for the entirety of the lunch period as he joined in with his friends' easy banter.

()

"Hey Anderson!" Blaine turned toward Tyler's voice as the other boy sauntered toward him. "Look um – I just wanted to say, I noticed you appeared rather uncomfortable during Harp's interrogation at lunch, but uh, if you are gay – which I'm pretty sure you are – it doesn't matter."

"I'm not." Blaine denied immediately, not hearing anything after the _'I'm pretty sure you are' _part.

"Look, Anderson – I realise you were bullied at you old school, but we're slightly more mature here – wise in our old age and all that jazz. And just know that if you need someone to talk to I'm here for you."

Blaine let the news sink in. Even if he were gay his friends would still accept him. He felt as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders, the permanent vice-like clench on his stomach loosened slightly. Wait – "Are you gay, Tyler?"

"Yeah, dude. Did I not confide that to you? I could have sworn I did."

"No you uh – you didn't."

"Oh, well I am. So uh, if you are – you don't have to confirm or deny now, and even if the answer is no, you can talk to me. I know I'm not Mr Therapist, I mean I'm a bit screwed up myself in case you haven't noticed, but most people say I'm a good listener, even if I don't give the best advice."

With that Tyler clapped Blaine on the shoulder and walked back the way he had come, leaving a bewildered Blaine in his wake. Maybe things would work out after all.

()

Blaine sat in the office, nursing a split lip and the first stages of a black eye. Even with the gay rumours his friends had still accepted him and they went on with their lives as if nothing had happened. In fact, after a while the rumours died down completely and almost nobody treated Blaine any differently. Without proof or conformation the masses had grown bored and moved on to discussing the very loud break-up that had occurred in the quad the day before.

But Blaine had been naive to think he had gotten away with it completely. Aaron had once again taunted Blaine with slurs and this time something in Blaine snapped and he had punched Aaron in the face earning himself a lot of punches in retribution and a detention after school. If Blaine had wanted to hold a neon sign above his head declaring, 'actually all those rumours were true, I am a flaming homosexual,' punching Aaron in the face had done it. The rumours, which had almost vanished, sprung up again with even more intensity.

This time around, with more evidence, the other students began to show some animosity toward Blaine. Not all of them, but enough that Blaine began to feel like shit again. It wasn't a repeat of Middle School, but it was definitely a strong replication of it.

()

"Blaine, your friend Tyler is here," his Mom called up the stairs only moments before the boy in question burst through his bedroom door. Blaine had been feigning sick for the last few days while his face healed, staying in bed and slobbing around in his pyjamas – now Tyler had decided to crash his party.

"Seriously Anderson, where the fuck have you been?" Tyler said in way of greeting as he flopped next to Blaine on the bed.

"Sick."

"No you haven't. Look, I know the rumours suck, but you can't avoid them forever."

Tyler was right. Blaine pulled his knees up to his chest and curled in on himself. "What do you do when the world is just so fucked up you don't know what to do anymore?" Blaine mumbled, not really expecting an answer.

"I stop eating till they take me to hospital."

"Tyler, I'm gay." It was the first time Blaine had said those words out loud to anyone.

"Yeah, I figured – otherwise you would have just laughed off the rumours and hooked up with one of the many girls who seem to have a crush on you."

Tyler always sounded so blasé about everything. As if it was no big deal.

"Did people react this way when you came out?" Blaine asked his friend quietly.

Tyler stopper examining his nail beds and turned to face Blaine.

"Technically I'm not out. I told you I was gay because I was sure you were too. Harp, Al and Meg know, but they don't care. They won't care about you either. Other's probably suspect, but they usually focus more on the anorexia thing than the gay thing.

"The truth is – it's hard. It's more than I can handle sometimes. But it's not something I can control – that's why I don't eat. I may not be able to control my sexuality, but my food intake is something that I can. I just – needed to make decisions on my own."

"Why does it have to be so hard?"

"I don't know, Blaine."

Tyler leaned over and pressed a kiss to the moping boy's temple. Blaine turned and looked at him, face contorted in shock. Tyler just smiled at him and leaned in again, giving Blaine time to move away, and pressed their lips softly together. The younger boy took a moment to respond, but then he was kissing Tyler back with passion. It was obvious Blaine hadn't done this before, and Tyler didn't really know what he was doing either – but it felt good. Really good.

Of course that would be when it would all go wrong.

Blaine's ajar bedroom door slammed open as John Anderson burst unceremoniously into the room. Blaine and Tyler broke apart like they had been electrocuted.

John was livid. He looked like he was about to kill someone as he glared at the pair on the bed.

"Dad I –" Blaine began.

"Out! Get out!" John yelled, yanking Tyler up by the arm, an easy task considering the boy's light frame, and all but throwing him from the room. "I don't ever want to see you in this house again!"

Then John rounded on Blaine. His son looked terrified, eyes wide, tears already beginning to fall.

"Dad," he tried again.

The slap rang through the room. The sound of flesh hitting flesh seemed to echo on for a long time after the blow was already over. Blaine raised hand up to his face, rubbing the spot where his father had hit him, not yet feeling the pain.

His father looked genuinely shocked by what had just occurred.

"Dad," Blaine sobbed.

"I don't want to hear it Blaine," John said, as he turned to leave the room.

"I – nothing happened." Blaine called after him. "It was just – I'm not gay. I'm not! Please don't hate me."

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** _Yes there is a _Very Potter Sequel_ quote slipped in there – I felt it was appropriate for the situation._ _I also borrowed a line from _Skins _as Tyler reminds me of a male version of Cassie._


	5. Tell Me Sweet Little Lies

**A/N:** _Sorry I took longer to update than I previously was, but I'm back at school now so I have less time to write. I hope this chapter was worth the wait._

* * *

><p><strong>Tell Me Sweet Little Lies<strong>

_Present Day_

"I can't believe your father hit you! I know he comes across as a little cold, even now, but I never thought he would be physically abusive." Kurt had sat up in shock and was now facing Blaine with a look consisting of a bizarre mixture of horror and sympathy.

Blaine gave a half smile, just a quirk of his lips, and reached out a hand, smoothing his thumb across Kurt's cheek. The other boy relaxed again under his touch. "He only hit me one time and it wasn't even that bad. More like a bitch-slap than a punch," Blaine tried to joke.

Kurt wasn't buying it. "There is no excuse for a parent to hit their child."

"In my Dad's defence, he was truly surprised that it happened, he just lost control for a second."

"Blaine, stop trying to defend him. He was in the wrong – not you."

"I know, but it doesn't matter anyway. It's all in the past now." Blaine sighed and looked down, dropping his hand from Kurt's face to twist with the other in his lap.

"Blaine," Kurt used two fingers to tilt Blaine's chin up, forcing the other boy to meet his eyes. "I know something else happened. You said you were going to tell me everything. You need to keep going."

Blaine breath hitched slightly. "Okay," his voice was quiet, almost a whisper. "My Dad didn't hit me again, but he acted very passive-aggressive for a long time – and I think that might have even been worse than if he had used violence."

"I know how much words can hurt. I'm just glad I never had to hear them from my own father." Kurt gave Blaine a smile and his hand a squeeze, hoping to give his boyfriend enough strength to continue his woeful tale.

()

_Freshman Year – Blaine aged 14_

Blaine furiously wiped away the tears still tracking down his face. His cheek was stinging, but he needed to explain and he knew his father wouldn't even bother to listen to him if he was still crying. After a few minutes Blaine felt composed enough to sneak quietly down the stairs. He could hear raised voices coming from the direction of the kitchen.

"… kissing a boy!"

"… it's a stage…."

"… not under my roof."

Blaine could only pick up snippets of the screaming match. He hesitantly crept closer, peering around the doorframe. He could see his mother sitting at the table, her face in her hands and his agitated father pacing the room.

"Dad?" Blaine interrupted before they could begin yelling again. He heard his father audibly sigh before John turned to face his son.

"What is it, Blaine?" His voice was indifferent.

"Can I – can you please just give me the chance to explain?" Blaine asked in a small voice, staring down at his suddenly fascinating shoes.

He shivered as his father brushed past him and walked into the living room – Blaine slowly followed. John sat stiffly on one of the expensive over-stuffed couches and gestured for Blaine to sit on the other. After a moment Blaine finally plucked up the courage to raise his eyes to his father's own hazel ones.

"Dad I – what you saw it… I'm not gay. I'm not. Just – it was an experiment. Please don't hate me." Blaine continued to mumble phrases along those lines, going so far as to deny it had ever happened, until his father held up a hand to stop the word flow.

"Okay." John said.

"What?" Blaine was shocked. His father was agreeing with him? Believing his fabricated excuses?

"Blaine, I've taught you better than that – say pardon, not what."

"Sorry, pardon?"

"That's better." John sighed once more. "I believe you. If you say nothing happened then nothing happened. I am truly sorry for striking you Blaine. It was unacceptable. I was merely startled and it was an overreaction. I should have waited to receive all the facts before I made my judgment."

Blaine just sat there. He didn't know what to say.

"You may leave now." John supplied.

Blaine quickly scurried out of the room and upstairs to his bedroom. Closing the door, he sunk to the floor, back pressed against the wood. He hugged his knees as the first genuine smile to grace his features in days appeared, relief washing through him.

()

Two days later Blaine was sitting at his dining room table wearing his best suit next to Anna Fitzgerald – the fourteen-year-old daughter of one of his father's co-workers he had never met before.

"So Blaine, Anna attends the private school Crawford County. It's only about an hour away from here."

"Okay," Blaine didn't really know what else to say to his father's statement. He continued eating his meal, attempting to ignore the uncomfortable dinner conversation. The girl – Anna – was wearing a pretty party dress and looked just as awkward as he felt. She didn't say anything either.

"Anna is an avid singer," Mrs Fitzgerald began in a nasal voice, which Blaine hoped for Anna's sake she hadn't inherited. "Your father told me you like to sing and play guitar, Blaine. Maybe you and Anna could sing together sometime."

Anna blushed and Blaine just nodded slowly, now he really hoped Anna's voice was more pleasant than that of her mother's.

The dinner continued in the same fashion, either his father or Mrs Fitzgerald would point out something Blaine and Anna had in common and Anna would blush while Blaine agreed half-heartedly.

As the Fitzgerald's left, Anna said, "It was nice to meet you, Blaine." It was the first words she had said other than 'hello' the whole evening. After the strange dinner affair was over Blaine didn't really know what to make of it. Only once he was in bed and his mind had time to sort through the evening did Blaine finally come to a sudden realisation. His father had been trying to set him up with Anna. His father who had never taken an active interest in Blaine's love life before.

But now… two days after John had caught him kissing a boy and he was trying to force straight down Blaine's throat. Well Fuck. What was he going to do? He couldn't ask his father to stop. Blaine knew that his father hadn't fully believed his experimentation lie, but at the moment that was enough. John Anderson did not want a gay son and that was the end of it.

()

"Your cousin Parker just got married the other day, Blaine. To a lovely girl –"

"He's my second cousin Dad, and I've only met him twice." Blaine interjected.

"A nice family they'll make too," John continued as if Blaine had never spoken. "I've heard they've already started tyring for children. Isn't that nice, Philippa?" John turned to his wife. who was flitting around the kitchen.

"Yes dear, that's lovely." Philippa mumbled in agreement, distracted by the last stage of the meal she was putting together.

"Carry on the family name and be an honourable part of society Parker will. He just got an internship at Steven, Parker and Reed, a prestigious law firm in New York. I bet he didn't get there by sitting around and signing show tunes all day."

Blaine remained silent. This type of dinner conversation had been going on for weeks now. His father would bring up an obscure relative or business associate and tell Blaine how good their lives were because they had a wife or career that didn't involve music.

John had also organised a few more 'dinner dates' with Blaine and his co-workers daughters. Each of those had been as unpleasant as the first. Blaine was starting to dread being asked to put on his best suit. The only time he ever wore it now was when he had to pretend to be the all-American straight boy his father so desperately wanted him to be.

()

"Blaine," John knocked loudly on Blaine's bedroom door and opened it slowly. Blaine was lying on his bed working on some homework not due for another week. As his father walked in he surreptitiously slid his phone, which he was currently using to message Tyler who had forgiven Blaine for the throwing out event, under his pillow. John didn't notice.

"Are you busy?" John asked, standing stiffly and awkwardly just inside the door. It was the first time he had entered Blaine's room since what had been dubbed 'the incident'.

"Not really," Blaine pulled his knees under him and organised his limbs so he was sitting cross-legged, facing his father's uncomfortable frame.

"Good. Come with me to the garage. I have a surprise for you." With that John turned on his heel and exited the bedroom, leaving a confused Blaine in his wake. After a few seconds Blaine scrambled off the bed and hurried after him.

()

The old, rusted, but still obviously beautiful old car sitting obtrusively in the garage brought Blaine to a standstill. His lips parted in shock, hazel eyes widening as he glanced to his father, standing slightly to the side of the '59 Chevy.

"This is for you – well for us really. I thought we could restore it together. You know, a bit of the old father-son bonding. And then it would be yours when we finished."

Blaine was still staring at the car. He couldn't seem to find his words.

"She's a beauty isn't she," John continued. He stepped toward his son's frozen form and put an arm around his shoulder's, leading him toward the car. "I used to have one just like this when I was younger, but your mother made me get rid of it. Said she needed a more reliable vehicle." John chuckled at the memory. "You wouldn't believe how hard it was for me to track one of these baby's down."

Blaine did know though. Harper's father owned an auto shop and he knew just how difficult it was to find old classic cars like this – and how expensive it was. His father was willing to pay thousands of dollars on the off chance that getting his hands dirty could make his son straight.

"So, what do you think?"

Blaine wanted to tell his father exactly what he thought and exactly where he could stick his fucking car, but he refrained.

"It's great, Dad." Blaine forced a smile that felt foreign on his features. If John noticed his son's discomfort he didn't mention it.

"Great. What do you say we get to work on it now? I know you were going to do that singing thing today, but you don't have to go to that. Besides this will be much more fun."

The singing his father was referring to was Blaine's audition for the school musical, which was in a couple of hours.

"Well I –"

"Of course it will." John finished for him, closing the matter before Blaine could even say his part. He handed Blaine some kind of spanner or something – Blaine wasn't really the handyman type – and turned toward the car once more.

Blaine knew it was pointless to argue. About this – about anything. His father wanted a straight son and apparently a straight son was what he was going to get.


	6. The First Cut Is The Deepest

**Warnings:** Offensive language, self-harm described in detail  
><strong>AN:** _This chapter is noticeably longer than the others, probably not a regular occurrence. There are a lot of important things in this chapter that I wanted to take time to develop, hence the length. As always I would love to hear what you guys think. Remember, reviews are like chocolate – once you taste it once you crave it forever._

* * *

><p><strong>The First Cut Is The Deepest<strong>

_Present Day_

"That is so fucked up. It's one step away from sending you to straight camp." Kurt expressed the statement quietly, but it still caused Blaine to startle in shock. Kurt never swore except when they were getting intimate and hearing that from his boyfriend really drove home just how dire his situation had been.

Again Blaine felt the need to defend his father's actions. He had gotten better over the years, mellowed out a lot more, become more accepting. "Kurt, I think you're being a bit over-dramatic. It was only for a little while. He just had a hard time coming to terms with things."

"Blaine if anyone has a hard time coming to terms with things it should be the kid who's gay."

"Not everyone can have a perfect Dad like yours!" Blaine shot back, regretting the harsh tone instantly. Kurt stiffened and extracted himself from Blaine's arms. He moved so he was leaning against the foot of the bed, a gap between the two of them now.

"I'm sorry, Kurt. I didn't mean it like that. I know coming out was hard for you too."

"I'm sorry too, but just remember my Dad had to accept me as well. It's been hard on him just like it was hard on your father, but he didn't hit me or treat me like a freakin' pariah. All I'm trying to say Blaine is that you shouldn't be so quick to stick up for your father's actions. I've said it before and I'll say it again, he was in the wrong – not you."

"I know that." Blaine huffed as Kurt finished his tirade.

"Do you?" Kurt was peering at him expectantly.

Blaine couldn't look Kurt in his beautiful, too blue eyes. "Okay, so maybe I blamed some of this on myself. Maybe I still do – so what?"

Kurt was across the bed in an instant. This time he sat behind Blaine and held the shorter boy in his arms. Just holding him – he didn't know what to say. Kurt could spy Blaine thumbing across the thin silver scars on his arm. Maybe he was finally going to hear the full story of how they came to be there.

()

_Freshman Year – Blaine aged 14_

The straight son act had cracks in its foundation and soon the whole thing was going to come tumbling down. It was getting ridiculous and Blaine was sick of living a lie. At his father's insistence he had gone on a few first dates with a couple of girls outside of his family's dining room. He had managed to make excuses not to give any of them the standard good night kiss and none of the abysmal first dates had ever led to a second one.

At school it was almost the end of freshman year and already the end of Blaine's chance of popularity. The rumours had stuck and while Blaine's friends stood by him and some people truly didn't seem to care, the ones that did care only increased the intensity of their bullying.

The verbal abuse was constant and the physical was even more punishing. Toward the middle of the year Blaine ended up with a broken wrist and a concussion after a jock pushed him down a flight of stairs. His mother had fretted over that one. It wasn't an injury he could hide, but the reason for it he could. "I fell down some stairs." Philippa didn't recognise the _Fight Club_ quote and accepted her son's false version of the event. His father had joked that he should be more careful when walking in the future or he wouldn't let him back in the garage.

Oh yes the garage and that fucking car. Every weekend Blaine was expected to spend an hour working on it with his father berating him the whole time about how much better this was than 'singing those silly show tunes.'

Blaine's only solace was Tyler. At least the older boy knew some of what he was going through and that helped a little. Blaine tried to be like his friend who let the insults role off him like water off a duck's back. However, Tyler didn't have to put up with the physical side of things other than a few locker shoves every now and then. The jocks may be stupid, but they knew if they were too rough with Tyler he could get seriously hurt. His skeletal frame was something of an insurance policy. Blaine was starting to seriously consider applying this policy to himself.

()

"I came out to my parents last night."

Blaine and Tyler were at the local park. Tyler was still banned from the Anderson house and he didn't want to take Blaine to his home lest they run in to his, according to Tyler, wildly eccentric parents.

The two had been sitting in silence, Blaine leaning against the rough trunk of a shady tree reading a book and Tyler lying on his back, head pillowed on Blaine's thigh as he examined the gathering storm clouds. They had gotten a few strange looks and some of disgust, but Tyler had just flipped them off and refused to move from where he was. Not many people from school lived around this area so they felt safe enough to be in this position around the passers-by they were 90% sure they would never see again.

"Really?" Blaine asked after Tyler's statement had sunk in.

"Yeah." He picked at a loose thread on his shirtsleeve, not offering any more information.

"How did they take it?" Blaine felt a prickle of nerves extend up his spine as he waited for Tyler's answer.

"Well."

"Well?"

"You think I'd be here practically in your lap if it had gone badly." Tyler laughed and Blaine couldn't help but join in with a chuckle of his own. "The folks may be strange, however, the intelligence had to be inherited from somewhere. Mom said she's suspected for a while and Dad said he still loved me. We hugged it was a beautiful moment."

Blaine could read the sarcasm in Tyler's voice. He had long ago stopped wondering whether his friend could just give a straight answer to anything.

"That's great, Ty." Blaine smiled down at him. Tyler rolled his eyes but grinned back.

As he continued his face fell. "Yeah it's fantastically amazing, but now that the parentals think we're all fast friends again they want to talk to me all the time."

"Is that such a bad thing?" Blaine mused aloud.

"So you and your father have great heart to hearts do you?"

Blaine knew Tyler didn't mean his comment to be hurtful, but his heart clenched as he was reminded of the horrible talks his father pressed on him about girls and cars every time Blaine was in the near vicinity.

"Sorry."

Tyler rarely apologised so Blaine took it while he could. "Thanks."

"I was simply irritated by my own family situation. Now that we're talking my mother wants me to see a shrink and get me eating again. She force-fed me a burger, Anderson. A burger!

"I think you're being a tad over-dramatic, Ty," Blaine said, amused.

"It was a vegetarian burger. It had tofu in it. If I were starving I would rather eat dirt than tofu. At least it would have a nicer taste."

Blaine chuckled again. Tyler picked his nails as they fell into silence once more. After a while Blaine lost interest in his book and began to examine his friend instead. Tyler, while always presenting a laid-back and blasé attitude, looked so relaxed in this moment – even more so than usual. _He doesn't have to hide who he is, that's why_ – Blaine's brain supplied_._

"I think I want to come out." The thought escaped before he could stop it.

"I suggest you come out to our little group first as a trial run before you go for the jugular." Tyler continued to examine his nails and his voice remained as level as if he was telling someone where the nearest bus stop was.

()

"Guys, I have something I want to tell you." Blaine attempted to interrupt the various group conversations around halfway through lunch period.

"Excuse me, sorry to interrupt your terribly important conversations, but you need to shut the fuck up. Anderson wants to speak."

The talk died immediately.

"Thanks, Tyler."

The other boy either didn't hear the sarcasm or chose to ignore it. "You're welcome."

"Guys," Blaine began again, "I've got something I need to tell you. I know that you've accepted Tyler and don't treat him any differently because of his sexuality and I hope your kindness will extend to me also." Blaine could feel himself rambling, anything to postpone saying those dreaded words that could ruin everything he had come to gain at this school. He paused and the group looked at him expectantly. "I'm gay."

The reaction wasn't what Blaine expected. It was more of a non-reaction.

"Yeah, we kind of already guessed," Harper said, "but good for you for coming out. I'm sure it was pretty dark in that closet."

"Thanks, Harp." Blaine said bitingly.

"Sorry, Blaine. Did you want us to act surprised?" Sally asked.

"Well maybe a little."

"Oh my God." Sally gave a theatrical gasp. Blaine laughed at the absurdity of it.

"Okay, fine – I get it. You'll accept me no matter what. You don't have to be condescending."

"Of course we have to be condescending," Alan threw an arm around Blaine. It's kind of in the friend job description."

The rest of the group hugged Blaine in turn before returning to their previous conversations.

"Do you think the talk with the parentals will be as easy as this, Anderson?" Tyler leant back on his chair to converse with the younger boy.

"I doubt it, but at least I've done it once."

"Practice does make perfect." Tyler rocked the chair back onto four legs and leaned over to capture Blaine in a hug of his own. "Good luck for when you tell them." At this Tyler was serious.

()

"So we were right all along. You are a little faggot." The obnoxious voice of ex-football-captain Aaron floated toward Blaine as he walked through the school parking lot. The coming out to his friends had gone better than expected; Blaine guessed this was the world righting things. Every time something good happened in his life something else came along to ruin it. Aaron must have overhead them at lunch.

Blaine hunched his shoulders, but other than that gave no indication he had heard the jock, and continued walking.

"Hey, fag – I'm talking to you." The voice was closer now.

Suddenly the ground was rushing toward him as two meaty hands made contact with his back. Blaine rolled to stop himself from falling on his face as he was shoved to the ground. A swift kick to his stomach left Blaine gasping for air. He pulled his knees up to prevent any more blows to his vital organs. The next kick connected Aaron's dirty running shoe with his face. Blaine's nose turned into a faucet as the jocks ran away laughing.

"Next time you'll think twice about coming out of the closet, fag. Fucking freak!" One of the jocks called back as Blaine curled in on himself on the rough asphalt.

()

"Blaine! Oh my goodness, darling. What happened to you?" Was his mother's greeting as Blaine walked through the door, his face and shirt collar covered in dried blood. Usually Blaine would shake off what he was feeling, make up some excuse and pretend he was fine. It was a routine he was used to, but this time – this time it was different. His mother's alarmed expression seemed to break through some invisible wall and Blaine felt a sob rip from his throat accompanied by hot tears running down his face, clouding his vision.

Philippa wrapped her sobbing son in her arms and led him to the living room sofa. Cradling Blaine against her chest she called for her husband.

"What is it?" John voice sounded partly concerned at his wife's slightly hysterical tone, but as soon as he saw what was causing it he exhaled in annoyance. "What happened this time?"

"I don't know." Philippa answered. Blaine was still beyond speaking at the moment, wet face buried in the crook of his mother's neck. "Can you please get me a wet towel, Blaine's bleeding."

John complied and pressed the item into her hand a minute later. Philippa gently pulled Blaine away from her and delicately dabbed at the crusted on blood. Once Blaine's face was clean and his sobs had subsided somewhat, Philippa asked, "What happened, darling?"

"I – uh, some kids at school beat me up." Blaine said weakly, too tired to lie.

"Why did they do that?" Blaine could tell from the tone his father's voice had taken that he already suspected what his son's answer would be.

It was now or never, Blaine figured. Time to bite the bullet and confess the thing that had been eating him up inside since that day in Middle School when Jacob had bowled him over on the oval. "I – they uh – the beat me up because I came out."

"Came out?" His mother looked sincerely confused.

Blaine was too frightened to look at his father as he said those two little words. "I'm gay."

"Oh, Blaine." His mother pulled him into another bone-crushing hug. He clung to her just as tightly. Peeking over her shoulder he saw his father drop the bloody rag Philippa had handed back to him and leave the room without giving his son a second glance. Blaine jumped in his mother's arms as he heard the front door slam hard enough to rattle the hinges. He swore he could hear the plate glass shatter.

Into the silence his mother said, "Just remember we still love you, darling." Philippa broke the embrace, patting Blaine's unruly hair, muttering something about checking on his father. And then Blaine was alone. Just like Middle School only worse. He was now alone in his own house. He had done it – had finally owned up to who he was and now his father hated him.

Suddenly Blaine felt white-hot rage course through him. If his father was going to hate him he would hate John right back. But no – no, who he really hated was himself. If he could just be normal none of this would be happening. He wouldn't have been picked on in school, he would still be popular, wouldn't have to be scared of people judging him everywhere he went. Why the fuck did he have to be gay! Why?

()

It had been a week and his father still hadn't spoken to him. His mother had assured Blaine that both she and his father still loved him, but Blaine knew it wasn't true. He could see the derision in his John's eyes every time his father looked at him – like he didn't deserve to be there, didn't deserve to be part of the Anderson family if he was going to be gay.

Blaine avoided everyone at school. He didn't tell Tyler that he came out to his parents. In fact he didn't talk to Tyler or the rest of his friends at all. The taunts were back at full force. The locker shoves worse than ever. Blaine just wanted it to end. He hated that he had to feel this way. He hated himself. If his stupid brain could just like women he wouldn't be in this mess.

Blaine thought again of asking a girl on a date, but who would want to be in a relationship with the outed gay kid? He even tried watching what society considered normal porn, but seeing women in that position just made him sick to his stomach. The closet was locked and as much as he wanted to creep back in he knew that he couldn't now. It was far too late for that. Blaine didn't even know what to do anymore.

()

"Blaine, darling, we're leaving now. The emergency numbers are on the fridge, but try not to call if you can help it. This dinner is very important for your father. We'll be back tomorrow morning." John ushered Philippa out the door as she finished her spiel, not once making eye contact with his son in the process.

Blaine continued to lie, sprawled on his bed. Mounds of homework due next week sat untouched on his desk. He heard his mother's words, but they didn't really register. Blaine just felt numb. Found it impossible to care about anything. He didn't think he'd smiled or laughed for real in weeks.

The only thing he'd been able to do efficiently was sit in the dark and think about his impending death. It would happen to everyone eventually, Blaine just wanted to speed up the process. Maybe he wasn't serious, maybe he was – but the thought of plunging a knife into his own chest or swallowing a bunch of pills was sounding more appealing by the day.

Thoughts of suicide, once fleeting and far between had become much more frequent. Really, would the world care if he weren't here anymore? Blaine certainly wouldn't. It would be so much easier to not be here. To succumb to the blankness death would provide. Cease to exist. _I don't want to be here anymore. I don't want to do this anymore._ He was too numb to even cry. It was horrible. The numbness was worse than crying. He just wanted to be able to feel something. Of course Blaine knew where this was going.

()

His father had a few half empty bottles of assorted sprits in his liquor cabinet. Blaine took a bottle that probably belonged to his mother. It was tequila, three-quarters of the amber liquid left. Passing through the kitchen he found a small but sharp knife, the silver blade glinting up from a thick black handle.

The bathroom downstairs was rarely used, except for guests, and that's where Blaine headed now. The tequila bottle dangled loosely in one hand, knife clutched tightly in the other. He sat on the cold tiles, back pressed against the bathtub, knife lying next to him. Blaine took a swig of tequila, it burned his throat and he coughed harshly, but managed to keep it down. Blaine had never really had much alcohol before – a glass of wine or two at some family events and the hot burning track of the tequila was a new experience for him. The first of many he would experience tonight.

After a few more swigs a warm tingly feeling settled through him. Blaine began to feel slightly light-headed. The knife resting innocently next to him seemed to have a giant neon sign on it, begging him to pick it up. Standing, Blaine placed the knife next to the sink and examined himself in the mirror.

His face was pale, sallow. Slightly gaunt – he hadn't been eating well for the last few weeks. God, he hoped he wasn't going to end up like Tyler. His eyes were bloodshot and his shock of black curls was messy and wild. He tore his eyes away and looked down at his bare forearms, his reflection was starting to make him feel queasy.

Blaine had always thought the whole idea of inflicting pain on yourself was idiotic. Yeah, maybe he had been thinking of suicide, but it was more in terms of a release for the anguish he felt rather than a serious venture. Reading those articles in teen magazines he kept hidden under his bed, Blaine always thought how easy it would be to not cut. That those girls, and occasionally guys, weren't getting anything out of it and they could just stop whenever.

He picked up the knife and flipped it back and forth between his palms. The haze of alcohol intensifying the thoughts he had been harbouring for a long time and starting to make him believe that maybe it wasn't such a stupid thing after all. Blaine could feel his heart beat in his ears as he poised the glinting blade over his skin.

Shutting off the rational part of his brain that said this was going to hurt so why do it, Blaine pressed the edge of the metal so it was biting into his wrist. It didn't cut the skin, but it smarted slightly. _Well, here we go. _Blaine closed his eyes and dragged the blade swiftly across his flesh. Nothing. It hadn't even broken the skin. What? There was barely even a raised line.

Blaine tried again, but the same thing happened. The edge of the blade was not sharp enough to cut through the tough outer shell of his skin. He tilted the knife up so the point was digging into his wrist, just next to a vein. Ow. That hurt.

"Okay, I'm going to do this." Blaine barely processed that he had spoken his thoughts aloud.

He positioned the tip of the blade to one side of his wrist, near the join where arm becomes hand. Blaine could see the blue, slightly raised lines of his veins. Pressing down he dragged the knife tip over them sideways. Pain, pleasure all rolled into one – Blaine let out a gasp. His head lolled and his eyes rolled back. Fuck, that felt good. It actually felt good. It should feel bad, but it was feeling something and that was better than nothing. The numbness had crept back, replaced by the sting of the thin line of red on his wrist. Little drops of blood formed along the line.

Blaine couldn't get over how that thin line of red blood looked against his pale flesh. He gaped at the knife in his hand, shocked. He couldn't believe he had actually done it. And now he was going to do it again. The knife was already raised, coming to rest slightly father back on his arm. This time he pulled the blade tip in a downward motion, following the path of his blue vein.

Deeper – this one was deeper. Blaine pushed harder and the blade bit into his skin. Scraped the flesh aside. The pleasure-pain feeling was intensified. Blaine let out a small moan, followed by a harsh pant as he pulled the knife up and off. Droplets of blood rolled more freely from this cut. Blaine dropped the bloodstained knife into the sink and simply stared at the mark he had made on his own arm. He gently fingered of the cut, hissing when he made contact and spread a thin coating of red over his pale skin.

After a few minutes Blaine turned on the tap and stuck his arm under the cold water. The liquid washed off the traces of red on his skin after a bit of light rubbing, but more soon surfaced from the deeper cut. Blaine grabbed a few tissues and pressed them to his arm, holding pressure there until the bleeding seemed to stop. Washing away the blood once more and hiding the tissues at the bottom of the trash, Blaine ran a gentle finger over the two lines he had created.

They were an angry red colour and partially raised – stinging slightly as Blaine's searching fingers came into contact. After a final examination, Blaine pulled his shirtsleeves down to cover his handy work – hissing slightly again at the itching and stinging feeling. But he felt good. Examining himself again in the mirror, Blaine could see his face had a bit more colour in it. Better yet, the numb feeling had reduced. It wasn't completely gone, but Blaine felt like he could breathe properly again now that it wasn't crushing him.

He had done something. And maybe that something might seem stupid to some people, but it had helped. It had helped and for the first time in weeks Blaine managed to crack a smile.


End file.
